Anthony Richardson and His Shoulder: Colts Fans, Buckle Up for Another Wild Ride

Alright. So here we are again. The Indianapolis Colts — a team that apparently took the NFL’s most unintentional comedy prize last season — have just dealt their beleaguered QB Anthony Richardson another shoulder injury. Yes, ANOTHER one. Anthony Richardson, the supposed franchise savior, the 2023 No. 4 overall pick with the arm of a cannon and the enthusiasm of a kid who just discovered the candy aisle, won’t be suiting up for minicamp because his throwing shoulder decided to scream “NOPE.”

Let’s set the stage. Troublesome injuries are not exactly new for Richardson. The guy has missed 17 games in his first two seasons — yeah, seventeen. That’s basically two whole seasons worth of games lost to the medical gods. He’s got a surgically repaired AC joint (that’s the fancy term for a shoulder injury that makes you wanna scream while throwing a football) and now it’s flaring up again. You could fill a novel with all the times fans and analysts alike have held their breath every time he tosses a pass, praying his arm doesn’t go full “NOPE.”

The Colts announced Richardson will sit out minicamp, citing the “right shoulder injury.” Look, if you’ve followed the Colts even a little, you’re no stranger to this nonsense. Last year, the very same shoulder sidelined Richardson for a chunk of the season. Then there was this bizarre episode where he got benched for not being prepared enough — because when you’re missing half the games with an injury, it’s hard to find your groove. His completion percentage last season? A league-low 47.7%. Yeah, that’s not a typo.

Now, I’m not getting my hopes up that this is just a minor annoyance, like a stubbed toe—nope, the NFL Network’s Ian Rapoport reports this is the same shoulder that’s acting up again after offseason drills. Training camp is looming, but Richardson’s availability? As murky as Indiana fog in November. The Colts’ head coach Shane Steichen even admitted he has no timetable for Richardson’s return.

So what does this mean for the Colts? In layman’s terms: chaos. The Colts brought in a new quarterback to hedge their bets because clearly, placing all your faith in a QB who treats his shoulder like a ticking time bomb isn’t a strategy, it’s a disaster waiting to happen. Meanwhile, veteran Daniel Jones, who was supposed to be competing fiercely with Richardson for the starting job, has suddenly found himself in pole position by default. (Hey Daniel, ever consider a career in golf? Because damn, you’re the only player who’s suddenly looking steady here.)

Colts fans, I see you over there—wounded but still hopeful, clinging to the fantasy that Richardson will heal up, return better than ever, and silence ALL the haters. And sure, there’s a chance he’ll get healthy by training camp, as optimistic insiders suggest. But remember, this isn’t just your average paper cut on a finger. This is a shoulder that has given him grief since rookie year, and it’s showing all the signs of a chronic menace. It’s like owning a sports car that trips the check engine light every 50 miles but you refuse to trade it in because it “handles like a dream.” Rough roads ahead, folks.

Let’s drop some cold hard facts: Anthony Richardson missed the Colts’ mandatory minicamp this year, and in the NFL world, that’s a pretty big red flag. Teams don’t sit their prized potential franchise QB out of crucial development drills unless something’s seriously wrong. And it’s not just speculation; Steichen confirmed Richardson flew to Los Angeles recently to see a top orthopedic surgeon. So it’s happening. The guy is fighting for his NFL life pretty much.

But here’s the part where my blood boils a bit: the Colts’ new owners just took the helm after the demise of Jim Irsay’s reign (RIP, king of chaotic brilliance). They’ve been crystal clear—no rebuilding year, they want to WIN NOW. Yet here we are, with the very player destined to lead this team limping back from a significant injury that already sidelined him for a bulk of last season. How does that jibe with “win now” thinking?

And no, just because Richardson’s been gifted with massive physical tools — mobility, arm strength, and untapped talent — doesn’t mean he’s immune to being an injury liability. The Colts clearly agree, having brought in another QB for backup purposes and to add competition. Daniel Jones was supposed to better challenge Richardson, but now he might get the Dunce Cap by default. The QB battle is more of a slow-motion game of ‘who’s healthier?’ instead of ‘who’s the actual better player?’

Okay, so what happens if Richardson isn’t ready? Colts fans, prepare your angry tweets now. We saw Joe Flacco pull starting duties last year when injuries and struggles plague Richardson; Flacco probably isn’t what anyone wants in 2025, but he remains the fallback. Meanwhile, the fanbase’s collective heartbeat is in the hands of medical professionals whose Monday to Friday is keeping this fragile talent on the field.

Here’s the brutal truth: injuries suck, especially when they repeatedly rob a promising young QB of his rhythm and reps. Every snap missed is experience stolen, every shoulder twinge a psychological weight that carries over into the pocket. The Colts may have drafted Richardson with dreams of a franchise superstar. What they’ve instead gotten so far is a highlight reel of potential mixed with a medical mystery wrapped in frustrations.

Is this the end for Richardson? No. The kid is young, talented, and the NFL is littered with players who bounced back from devastating injuries. Think Andrew Luck’s brief but brilliant career beginnings or even Russell Wilson’s early-career shoulder woes. But how Richardson bounces back might define the Colts’ entire future. No pressure, right?

Until then? Indulge in the Colin-ian tragedy: a team desperate for clarity, stuck with an injured QB juggling competition, hope, and increasing skepticism. It’s a kind of beautiful mess—except it’s on the field, and Colts fans have front-row seats.

To the Colts front office: fix this. To the medical staff: work wonders. To Anthony Richardson: rest that shoulder, heal up, and prove the doubters wrong. To the fans—brace yourselves. The 2025 season rides on the health of one arm that has been a lot more bugged than calm.

And to every fan out there wondering if this rollercoaster has any upside, remember: the NFL is weird. It will chew you up and spit you out faster than you can say ‘Minicamp shoulder scare.’ But every now and then? The comeback story writes itself, and suddenly this wild ride makes sense.

Until that day comes, though, we wait, we worry, and we rant. Welcome to Colts football, 2025 edition.